


And I Let you In

by Mamichigo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Background Momota Kaito, Background Saihara Shuichi, F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, Hunter Maki, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Musician Kaede
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 02:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13988433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamichigo/pseuds/Mamichigo
Summary: Between killing monsters and washing blood from her skin, Maki didn't expect to end up getting close to a bright, easily excitable musician. And yet here we are.





	And I Let you In

**Author's Note:**

> For Serena.  
> I think this is the fic I'm the happiest with, from out of the four I wrote you. I've been dying to show it to you, so I'm glad it's finally done. I hope you enjoy this, have your gals
> 
> Title from A Little Taste, by Skyler Stonestreet

Hunting was never an easy job, but this night was particularly exhausting to Maki. Her bangs clung to her forehead, damp with sweat, and Maki brushed it away each five minutes with increasing irritation. On top of that, the shirt she wore was glued to her back, which just made the entire situation more aggravating, as the fabric was itchy on her skin.

Moreover, there was blood drying almost on every inch of her body, which didn’t help her mood at all. On the good side, not a drop of it was hers, so Maki was grateful for not having to deal with any wounds, at least this time.

Even so, that didn’t compensate for the nasty smell; even if Maki was used to it, it didn’t make the smell of blood any less disgusting. Not only that, but anyone who saw her at the moment would think she one of the creatures Maki is supposed to kill.

In conclusion, Maki wasn’t on one her best days – day which has dragged for long enough already, since she has been up for more than thirty six hours now.

The lack of sleep was both her own fault and the princess’; Chabashira has a preference for Maki over the other hunters, and Maki always accepts her assignments. Maybe because if she kept herself busy for most of the time and slept for the rest of it, the nightmares would be kept at bay, instead of constantly bothering her. Falling into bed when exhausted and seriously sleep deprived was almost always enough to guarantee hours of uninterrupted rest; the times when not even that worked, were the ones that kept Maki awake, bile burning in her throat as she blankly stares into the darkness of her own room.

Momota and Saihara try to convince her to spend more time with them instead, but the hunter rarely accepted the offer. Saihara always ended up with an air of disappointment, though he still smiled nervously in understanding, while Momota loudly complained (for way too long).

Maki, upon realizing she let her thought drift for a few minutes without actually paying attention to where she was going, immediately snaps into focus as she glances around to take in the imagery, seeing that she is now passing the Royal Garden.

The roses there are perfectly red, pretty as they bloom under the moonlight. Despite the scenery, Maki pays no attention to it, focused instead on the presence that resides among them, tense as she observes the humanoid.

It’s a woman with shining blond hair, sat on a bench close to the white marble fountain, and the reflection of the moonlight on the water’s surface lights her face in a strange way, creating the illusion of a shimmering and glowing skin. Or maybe it’s more than an illusion.

The woman also has a fiddle in her hands, playing a slow but happy tune, her melodious voice singing along with it, close to being hypnotizing.

Maki narrows her eyes, not trusting what she sees, asking herself if the woman is a nymph or deity. Her crossbow is still in her right hand, but the hunter had used all of her arrows that night; to compensate, Maki produces two daggers from inside her cloak, holding them in the dip between her fingers. Without making any sounds, Maki approaches, blade pointed to the woman, ready to attack in case it’s necessary.

The woman seems to be deeply absorbed – or calm and disinterred to Maki’s actions –, enough so the hunter can stand with the dagger just a few inches from her face without her realizing or reacting.

Once she snaps from whatever trance she’s in, the blonde opens her eyes and blinks a few times. Apparently, she takes awhile to process the blade so close to her own face; Maki counts ten whole seconds before the blonde lets out a squeak, the fear making her jump and let the fiddle fall from her hands.

If she were anyone else – like the princess herself or her witch, Yumeno -, Maki would have contorted her face in a ugly grimace as she sees the pathetic reaction. But being who she is, Maki simply frowns in aggravation. The hunter watches the woman try to lower her body to take the fiddle back without touching the blade, which ends with her letting the instrument falls again as soon as she has it in her hands. The blonde laughs nervously.

Forget what Maki said before. There is no way someone so clumsy could be a nymph or spirit, much less a deity.

Satisfied with the conclusion, Maki retreats the daggers and hides it back in her clothes. The blonde sighs in relief, finally retrieving her fiddle.

“Don’t scare me like that, I thought you’d actually kill me!” She complains, holding a hand against her chest.

“I would, if you were a threat,” Maki calmly says, now longing get to her room more than ever before.

The woman tilts her head in hesitant curiosity, maybe fearing how truthful Maki’s words were.

“Why would you think I’m something dangerous?” She finally asks. “I never thought I look intimidating or anything like that…”

The blonde assumes a thoughtful expression, chin held between her thumb and index finger. Then, she raises an arm and stares at it for way too long, flexing the muscles there momentarily. Her biceps are obviously the one of a person with not that much physical strength, skin round and soft even when flexed. She turns a sheepish smile to Maki.

Maki has no intention of telling the woman the reason for believing she wasn’t a human. It’s too embarrassing.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I… Sorry, for scaring you.” Maki nods in what she hopes is a good enough way to say goodbye. The interaction has heighted her exhaustion, so Maki is more than ready to leave the garden.

As soon as Maki is done talking, the blonde moves to touch her, but stops halfway through. The hand she left still awkwardly raised in the air goes to her own neck, scratching the back nervously.

“Can I get your name?” She asks carefully, voice just a tad lower than it was before.

“Why do you want to know?” Maki’s eyes narrow, one eyebrow is raised.

“Aw, come on, it’s not that much of a deal if you tell me, right? How about this. I’ll tell you my name, then you do the same?” She cheerfully suggests. Before Maki even has the chance to reply, the blonde is already talking again, “My name’s Kaede Akamatsu, I’m the Royal Musician.”

The name is vaguely familiar to Maki, but she can’t quite place why. Maybe she heard it during one of Chabashira’s nonstop rants about the women in the castle.

Simply ignoring Kaede and walking away is a tempting concept; the hunter never agreed to introduce herself, and she’s under no obligations to do so. However, it’s easy to see how interested the other is, so it’s possible she’ll just keep on pestering Maki until she reveals her name.

“Maki Harukawa,” that’s all she says. Despite the dry introduction, Akamatsu’s eyes shine in excitement.

“You’re Harumaki, aren’t you?” Just the mention of the nickname is enough to Maki twitch in irritation. “It’s you, I’m sure! Saihara and Momota told me you are a scary, but cute girl, and they were right!”

Akamatsu’s beaming smile is radiant, but Maki can only think about how she’s going to strangle Momota when she sees him again – there’s no doubt that being described as cute came from him, not Saihara.

“You know them?” The answer to that is an obvious yes, but Maki expects the question to encourage the musician to say more.

“Yeah! It hasn’t been that long since I came to the castle, but the two of them are my friends.”

Oh. That explains their comments about how they wanted to introduce a friend to her. Maki nods again.

“Sorry, I have to go,” she emphasizes the statement by peeling a dry bead of blood off from her face with a nail.

“O-Oh, of course, no problem!” Akamatsu waves friendly. “Let’s hang out together soon, okay?”

Maki sighs, replying with a hesitant “ok” before leaving. She doubts they’ll see each other again.

 

* * *

 

They see each other again.

When Maki decides to accept Saihara and Momota’s invitation to join them, not even a week after the encounter in the garden, the blonde has apparently tagged along, sitting with the two men. Once Maki’s seen by the group, Saihara reacts by smiling nervously, but gently. The other two, however, wave their arms high in the air and call for her name with boisterous voices. With a long sigh, Maki quietly hopes Akamatsu isn’t Momota 2.0.

Hope which is proven to be right, since Akamatsu is nowhere close to being as aggravating as Momota is. She is, however, as stubborn as him – if not more –, which is quite impressive, considering how Momota can get unhealthily unreasonable when he’s sure he is right.

Because of that, the blonde manages to convince Maki to hang out with the group more; however, Akamatsu never bothers her if Maki is tired or in a bad mood, so the hunter appreciates that.

Within a few weeks, they fall into a pattern: in the afternoon, once Akamatsu is done rehearsing or composing a song, she comes to Maki’s room. If she’s available, the musician invites her to go somewhere – before, they would always meet with the two men and talk for awhile; but recently, she has taken to bringing Maki along in strolls through the citadel or to check the market.

Otherwise, if Maki is not up to getting out the room for any reason, the blonde will leave little gifts to cheer her up. Beautiful flowers with a soft, unobtrusive scent are left in a vase just outside her door where Maki can pick them up later once she’s awake. Or, if Maki is up but indisposed – be it from tiredness or being mentally unwell -, Kaede brings a slice of her favorite cake, even going as far as serving her some tea.

In one rare occasion, Kaede gave Maki small metal earrings.

And so, after over a month of spending time with Akamatsu and receiving her gifts, Maki feels somewhat guilty for not offering something in return. She isn’t the best at social interactions, but Maki is almost sure that it’s only polite to return the favor.

Besides, watching Akamatsu’s smile grow because of a gift she gave her would be extremely satisfactory.

That’s the thought that causes Maki to give Akamatsu a special gift, standing in front of her sitting figure and watching for a reaction. Saihara and Momota, a few feet from the table where Kaede is, look absolutely horrified.

On top of the table, a beating heart sits, its presence almost glaring.

“Harumaki…,” Akamatsu starts, hesitant. Maki doesn’t scold her for the use of the nickname; the musician has permission to use it. “What is this…?”  
  
“Dragon heart.”

“Riiiight… But, why?” Akamatsu is now fussing over her hairpins, despite them being in a perfectly straight line.

Maki frowns.  
  
“It has magical properties, you can use it to make tea or potions that help wounds to heal faster. It’s also a protective charm against some types of spirits,” Maki patiently explains.  
  
It’s also symbolic, being a heart and all.

Akamatsu seems relieved after listening to her words, though a little disturbed. It’s a good enough reaction, Maki guesses.

“Do they usually keep on beating, even out of the body?” Akamatsu asks, her curiosity winning out against the absurdity of the situation. Her fingers touch the surface of the glass container the heart is in, but she jumps at the vibrations created by the heartbeats.

“No, I asked Yumeno to use her magic on the glass. The heart will be okay as long as it stays in there.”

“Did you go through all this trouble just for me?”

“Not necessarily, I had to finish the job anyway…,” Maki’s voice trails off as Akamatsu’s eyes fill with tears.

Oh. That’s not the reaction Maki wanted.

An apology is already on the tip of her tongue, but the way Akamatsu shots up, almost tipping over the chair she was sitting on, keeps Maki quiet.  
The hug is unexpected.

“You don’t need to do so much for me, Harumaki!” Akamatsu laughs softly. “But thank you, I loved it, you really are the best!”

The musician kisses the other’s cheek briefly before pulling away, radiating happiness. Maki is sure her own cheeks are getting red, so she turns her head to the side and crosses her arms.

Her lips, however, are curved upward in a fond smile.

 

* * *

 

Akamatsu doesn’t show up one afternoon.

It shouldn’t worry Maki so much; the musician possibly got busy composing a song for her next concert, or maybe she was called by the princess. Mentally telling herself that, Maki decides to spend the afternoon with just Saihara and Momota for the first time in months – doing so only after checking if they saw their blonde friend first, of course.

The sun goes down as the bells ring to announce the end of the day.

She’s worried.

Maki has been to Akamatsu’s room before, so making her way to the musician’s door isn’t a hard task. Maki distractedly nods to the few people that greet her along the halls, focused solely on her objective.

When she knocks on the wooden door, all that greets the hunter is silence. She tries again. And again. Maki calls for Akamatsu’s name. Knocks again.

Maki starts to question if the musician even is in her room.

Feeling stupid just standing there in an empty corridor and incessantly knocking on the door, Maki decides to come back for her later; maybe then the musician would be done with whatever task she’s busy with.

However, as Maki turns on her heels, she hears a sudden crash loudly resound from inside the room. The hunter whirls around so fast her neck makes an obnoxious pop; she pauses, not breathing to better hear for any more sounds. One of her daggers is expertly slid into her right hand.

If Akamatsu is in danger, Maki has to act fast, before it’s too late.

There is some clanking from the other side before the door is opened slowly, emitting a high, grating creak as it moves. Maki, knuckles going white around the dagger, bends her knees slightly to charge at the attacker.

Akamatsu blinks bleary eyes at her. Maki raises an eyebrow, but her eyes are sweeping across the other’s figure, checking for any injuries. The musician sports a messy look, hair sticking out in all directions, the knots in it visible even from where Maki is standing. The almost gray skin, reddened nose and dark circles only make her appearance worse.

She’s unharmed, but obviously sick.

Rubbing a bump on her forehead – that explains the crash – with one hand, Akamatsu waves lethargically, then gesticulates to the inside of her room. Maki, understanding the gesture as a invitation to go in, steps into the room.

In the meantime, Akamatsu drags herself back to bad and promptly falls into it, miserably whining. Maki sighs.

The hunter finds some paper, ink and a pen for Akamatsu, leaving the items on the small bedside table where they would be safe.

“I’ll prepare something for you. While I do that, write what the hell happened to make you so sick out of the blue.” She waits until Akamatsu nods in understanding before moving away to check what the musician has that could be used to make some kind of food.

After searching through the cabinets, however, Maki doesn’t find all that much, especially not anything that could be fed to a sick person. Maki makes a mental note to talk to Akamatsu about her sugar intake at some point in the future.

Maki settles on brewing some tea, then, using a small portion of the dragon heart she gave to the other awhile back. She could bring her some actual food later, but the tea would at least work in improving Akamatsu’s health.

She doesn’t take long with it, maybe around twenty minutes, but when she walks back to the bed, Akamatsu is already asleep with her cheek to the paper on her knees, pen dangling from her hands and breathing with some difficulty.

Setting the tray down on the table, Maki goes to retrieve a chair for herself, bringing it close to Akamatsu’s bed, where she can seat close to the woman. Once settled, Maki gently wakes Akamatsu up, helping her sit up comfortably against the only pillow in the bed. After Akamatsu looks awake enough for it, Maki places the teacup in her hands.

“Be careful, it’s still hot.”

With the papers in hand and Akamatsu sipping on her tea, Maki can focus on reading the other’s words written on them. The musician’s handwriting is a little hard to read, but Maki makes it to the end without much trouble.

However, the information she just read made Maki scowl, her frown tempestuous as she turns to Akamatsu. The blonde shrinks at the look, looking like she wants to apologize.  
  
“You’ve been sick for days, and didn’t say anything.” Akamatsu nods to confirm the words, gaze averted, clearly feeling guilty. Maki stares at her fidgety hands around the teacup. “What happened to your fingers?”

It’s been bothering her since she noticed upon handing the cup to Akamatsu, but her fingers are full of bruises and scratches. Akamatsu shrinks further and sips on her tea with a loud suction noise. Maki presses two fingers to her own temple.

To answer her question, Akamatsu places the teacup back on the table and raises her hand to play an imaginary piano, then a fiddle in the air. Maki looks at the wounded fingers, still with traces of blood, and raises an eyebrow.

“How did you get to _that_ point?”

The blonde taps the paper Maki’s holding gently, asking to have it back. However, instead of writing on them, she points to two words already written there: “rehearsing” and “concert”.

“What’s the use of pushing yourself like that? You’ll just get sick, like it already happened.” Akamatsu points to “concert” again. “Your health is more important.”

She taps against the same word a few more times insistently, clearly refusing to listen to reason in her stubbornness.

The two spend the next few minutes in silence, except for the noises of the sick woman sipping on her tea. She tries to refuse the second cup, but Maki argues that, if she doesn’t drink all of it, Akamatsu won’t have ingested enough of the dragon heart to heal completely by tomorrow. She only calms down when Maki holds the cup to her mouth to encourage the musician to drink the last gulps of it.

Tea finished, the cup is left at the table to be washed another time. Maki, now free of having to hold the object to Akamatsu, lowers a hand to touch her forehead and feel her temperature; it’s easy to determine she has a fever, going by how her skin is burning. Maki decides to go fetch a wet cloth to help bring down the fever.

Maki stands up, but doesn’t take any steps away from the bed, as a weak hand holds the hem of her skirt. The two women meet eyes, the musician’s pleading for something Maki can’t quite understand.

“What is it?” Maki asks, a little apprehensive.

Akamatsu moves her lips so she can form the words “stay here”. Maki gently smiles and sits back down.

“I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

Akamatsu nods, but keeps her eyes open and more or less attentive, as if checking if Maki is really telling the truth. The hunter holds her hand in reassurance, and the musician tries her best to squeeze back.

Eventually, Akamatsu closes her eyes, falling into a not so peaceful sleep, due to her clogged airways. Maki brushes the hair strands glued to Akamatsu’s sweaty forehead to the side, tucking it behind her ear. She leans down to leave a kiss on the burning hot temple.

Akamatsu wouldn’t be alone.

 

* * *

 

They stare at each other.

While the musician appears to be a second away from completely freaking out, the hunter’s expression is indifferent, while also tinged by some rare hints of pain.

In theory, she could have gone to Saihara, instead of Akamatsu. With him being a white mage, Saihara could do a lot more to help than the musician ever could. However, Maki had been caught by an overwhelming sense of vulnerability; she isn’t in good enough condition to hide signs of weakness, and just the thought of slipping in front of Saihara made her physically sick.

In contrast, Akamatsu’s presence is soothing, calming Maki enough to get some control over herself back.

“You want me to help with your bandages…?” Akamatsu finally decides to ask. Her blond head shakes from side to side, brow furrowed. “I can’t do that, what if I end up hurting you more?”

The musician’s fingers rhythmically tap on the tabletop in her anxiety; Maki is almost sure she’s actually playing a song to calm herself down.

“Yes. Please.” Maki lets a sigh escape from her lips as she restlessly plays with her own hair. “I already cleaned everything, but I can’t move my hands enough to bandage it.”

The musician takes a long look at her wounds. Besides the gashes in her flesh, an alarming number of bruises are also visible all across her skin, including the surface of Maki’s cheeks; not only that, bur her hands are partially frozen and burned, due to being hit by an ice spell.

While the wounds are indeed still open, no blood drips from any of it.

Akamatsu visibly swallows, but doesn’t argue against Maki’s words. Instead, the chair she’s using is dragged closer to the hunter, so Akamatsu can sit directly in front of Maki, with nothing but air between them. She takes part of the bandages and gets to work, holding Maki’s hand gently.

“Are you sure you don’t need stitches for those cuts?” Akamatsu asks in a whisper, as if the volume of her voice could worsen Maki’s injuries.

Maki watches Akamatsu carefully wrap the white stripes around her unsteady right hand and go up to her wrist and forearm. The hunter pauses, breaking from her trance to remember she was asked a question.

“I’ll be fine for now. I’ll visit Saihara later, my body can take it until then.”

Despite the frown on her forehead and her slightly pursed lips, Akamatsu clearly doesn’t agree with Maki’s decision but she, again, doesn’t argue. The musician is probably holding herself back so they won’t end up being at odds with each other when Maki is hurt and mentally tired.

“Why not use the dragon heart?” She asks this time, as Maki had expected her to do at some point.

“I gave it to you, so you should be the one using it, not me.” Akamatsu opens her mouth, probably to deny her words, but Maki continues, “But that’s not the actual reason. I already drank a potion to stop the bleeding, mixing it with something else might be dangerous. And with how strong dragon magic is, it’s too much of a risk.”

 _I could die from the shock_ , Maki doesn’t tell her. Akamatsu seems to understand the implication anyway.

“Should I put something on the bruises?” She chews on her bottom lip, the black and purple on Maki’s skin an unsettling sight.

“No, I already took care of it.”

The blonde nods, taking in a deep breath and pausing for a second before asking the hunter to sit with her back to Akamatsu, so she has easy access to Maki’s shoulder blades.

The touch of cold fingers on her skin causes Maki shudder. It’s an unpleasant sensation, but it’s comforting as well, as it makes it easier to feel real, present in the now.

Not much longer, all the cuts are properly covered up by gauze, which means that Akamatsu is done.

The musician doesn’t pull away, neither does Maki.

The first one to break the moment of stillness is Akamatsu, who rests her head on Maki’s shoulder, sighing heavily, breath coming out shaky. Her hand touches Maki’s low back, rising up along her spine, feeling each vertebra and leaving goosebumps in its path. When she reaches Maki’s neck, Akamatsu’s fingers caress the small hair strands on the nape of it.

Maki tips her head back and to the side, Akamatsu raises hers. Their lips meet a second later, without hesitation, without thinking too much.

It’s not romantic, nor does it cause imaginary fireworks to go off in her mind. It’s brief and simple, tinged with pain from how the position pulls on the bruise on Maki’s cheek.

It’s more than Maki could ask for, and better than any other possibilities.

 

* * *

 

Despite the coldness of her surroundings, Maki couldn’t say she regretted coming to the top of the hill. The place was high enough so the castle and citadel could be seen, but the thick fog in the air turned the landscape into nothing more than vague silhouettes.

Winter hadn’t settled in completely quite yet, so the temperature wasn’t as extreme as it could get, despite it being currently four in the morning.

It had been a little over one week since the season has changed, and the monochromatic scenery had Kaede missing summer days. More specifically, the midsummer starry sky. Instead of the glowing dots that Kaede loved to look at, all she’s been getting for months are dark clouds, her only consolation being the nights when the Moon manages to appear behind all the gray and black.

Then, to cheer up her girlfriend – and stop her incessant complaining –, Maki decided to show her something that would compensate for the lack of stars. It wouldn’t be quite the same, obviously, but it’d be enough to distract Kaede for awhile, at least.

“Makiii, come closer, I’m gonna freeze!” Kaede whines, tightening her arms around Maki’s waist.

“I’m as close as it’s physically possible,” the hunter says back, while better wrapping their heavy blanket around their bodies.

“Then do something!” She groans louder in irritation, though Maki can easily hear the playfulness in her voice.

Maki leans closer to pepper Kaede’s face with kisses, especially her red cheeks. Then, she rubs the cold tip of their noses together in an Eskimo kiss. The musician giggles and returns the affection by caressing Maki’s face as well as she can with gloved hands.

“What do you want to show me anyways? Is it gonna take long?” Kaede excitedly asks, clearly eager to find out what the surprise is.  
  
“Be patient, it won’t be long now,” the hunter scolds, pinching her nose gently in ”punishment”.

Kaede makes such a hurt, betrayed expression for being pinched, you’d think Maki just stabbed her instead. The hunter laughs at her dramatic antics, kissing her nose in apology for before.

The musician’s face immediately changes into a beaming smile.

The moment is abruptly broken when Maki notices a sudden movement at the corner of her eyes; before she can take a proper look at it, Kaede seems to notice the same thing.  
  
“What is…?” She stops halfway through, mouth open in surprise, eyes glued to what she is seeing.

Turning to the same direction as Kaede, Maki confirms it’s what they were here for; a few dozen orbs of blue light fly around like fireflies, but bigger than the bug would ever be.

“Maki, what are those?” Kaede’s eyes are open wide, and she even forgot to hold on to her side of the blanket due to her perplexity.

“Winter faeries. They protect the forest and other vegetation from the snow and the cold.”

Kaede squeezes Maki further, to the point of almost being painful.

“It’s beautiful, Maki… They’re like tiny stars, right in front of us!” When the musician turns to Maki, her purple eyes reflect the glow of the faeries, and Maki almost blurts out that she’s the one with galaxies in her eyes.

Momota would be laughing now if he could hear her thoughts.

Kaede leans closer for a soft kiss, in a gesture of gratitude for bringing her to the hilltop. She doesn’t say it, but the hunter knows what the not so gentle fingers in her hair and the sweetly slow kisses are trying to convey; something along the lines of how happy she is Maki came here with her so late (early?), just so she could see Kaede smile.

Maki kisses back as passionately, and hopes the other can read her just as well, and knows that Maki is saying this is nothing, not when it’s for Kaede.

When they pull away, the blonde quickly focuses back on the small faeries. In the low light and with the fog present, it’s easy to see why Kaede would compare them to stars, and the mesmerizing glow of their magic enchantments only reinforces the impression.

“They’re preparing all the seeds and roots for the winter. It’s because of their protection that the season can happen without too much damage,” Maki explains.

“So they’re preparing for the future…” Kaede whispers back.

Maki smiles and nods in agreement.

“Hey, Maki, now that I mentioned it… Do you have any plans for the future?” Kaede’s voice is so quiet, it almost disappears into the fog.

Maki doesn’t reply right away, just watching her own breath dance in the air. She holds Kaede’s hand, intertwining their fingers, squeezing firmly.

“I’m not sure, but… I’m fine with finding out along the way.”

They look into each other’s eyes. Kaede hugs Maki, and she returns the touch.

“If I’m with you, it’s fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Who wouldn't want to get a beating heart from Maki, am I right?
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [@mamichigo](https://mamichigo.tumblr.com/)


End file.
